


a gentle hand, a secret touch on the heart

by fuutenfantasy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Shrieking Shack, Wolfstar Secret Santa, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 15:42:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21980608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuutenfantasy/pseuds/fuutenfantasy
Summary: James, Peter and Sirius manage to land themselves in detention the night of the full moon. Remus will be fine! He's done moons by himself before. Everything will be fine. Totally.Sirius is full of emotions and James can tell something is amiss. Remus is also full of emotions but better at hiding things. Will things work out for these star-crossed idiots? Read on to find out!
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 180
Collections: Wolfstar Secret Santa 2019





	a gentle hand, a secret touch on the heart

**Author's Note:**

> A gift for @flaggermousseart on Tumblr for Wolfstar Secret Santa 2019! Enjoy! <3
> 
> \--wolfstarbaby on Tumblr--

**a gentle hand, a secret touch on the heart**

Remus was waiting for his friends for three hours, half-reading an old History of Magic textbook and staring into the fire, before the Portrait Hole finally slammed open. Sirius came storming in first, followed by James, and Peter came scrabbling in last, still complaining at top volume. 

“-and you know Tulip’s had it out for us from the start! Totally unfair, is what it is.”

“We know, Peter,” moaned James wearily. “You’ve been on about it for the past ten minutes. Just shut it.”

Sirius threw himself onto the couch next to Remus, his eyes narrowed and and his arms folded. Remus closed his book and eyed his friend.

“I take it things did not go according to plan?” he quipped. Sirius just grunted. James flopped onto a nearby armchair and Peter stretched out in front of the blazing fire, both arms over his head. The other Gryffindors on the floor in front of the fire had to scoot out of his way, pulling books and wands closer to them with half-hearted grumbles. 

“Things went great!” said Peter, voice muffled. “For the first ten minutes, anyway. We had the ravens stowed and the birdseed scattered.” 

“It was going to be magnificent!” James interrupted, waving his arms about. “A perfectly timed series of events that would lead to old Tulip being absolutely covered in birdshit! I had everything planned. But then...” he sighed, running a hand through his already wild hair. “It all fell apart.”

“How so?” Remus asked, trying and failing to conceal his smile. 

After a dramatic pause, Peter took his arms off his face. “Tulip came in early.”

“We still could have gotten away with it,” James complained, sinking down into the overstuffed lap of the armchair, “if Padfoot hadn’t been busy using birdseed to spell WANKER on Tulip’s desk!”

Remus let out a snort and put down his book. “Did you really? That’s a bit much, even for you, Sirius.” He patted Sirius on the arm. Sirius glowered and made cranky noises, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

“And from there he looked up and saw the ravens and it was all downhill.” Peter sighed and rolled over onto his stomach. “Yelled at us for two hours. I thought his heart was going to burst, the way his veins were pulsing.”

“Glad I gave this one a pass, then.” Remus rubbed his shoulder, grimacing. “Not by choice, mind you, but I suppose it worked out. Did you get away with just a bollocking or do you hooligans have detention now, too?”

“We all have four hours of detention,” muttered Sirius. He turned to look at Remus. “Saturday night, starting at 8.”

Remus felt his stomach drop. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry, Moony!” James leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “We argued with Tulip for ages but he wouldn’t budge, and it’s not like we could tell him  _ why _ .”

“I’ll be fine,” said Remus automatically. “I’ve done plenty of moons without you lot before, I’ll survive this one too.” He stood up abruptly, stretching with some difficulty. “Let’s go to supper, I’m famished.”

The evening passed as many do at Hogwarts. Sirius came out of his funk by dessert and soon all the boys were laughing and bantering like normal, but Remus noticed that every time he winced at a pre-lunar ache Sirius glanced over, worried. They took their usual spots around the huge scarred wooden table in the common room and muttered over some homework, making more jokes than progress on their Transfiguration essays. 

“I just don’t understand how we’re meant to explain a process we’ve never seen before!” Peter complained, scratching his forehead with his quill and leaving a streaky black line in its wake. “ ‘Explain in fine detail the technical process of turning a chicken into a cow, paying special attention to where the additional mass comes from.’ What does she want us to do with this?”

Remus, already halfway through with his outline, just chuckled. “It’s in the book, Peter. You have to read.”

“Sounds like too much work,” said James, closing his book with a decisive thump. “Right, lads. How’s my hair?”

Sirius ruffled it playfully, messing it up even more. “Now it’s perfect. Go get her, Prongsie.”

James eyed his target, squared his shoulders, and stood. “Wish me luck.”

He sauntered across the common room so he could attempt to flirt with Lily - by which he meant leaning on the back of her chair and joining whatever conversation she was a part of with loud commentary and inappropriate humor. This was met with eye rolling, ignoring, and the occasional artfully dodged hex. Eventually Peter went for a shower before bed and it was just Sirius and Remus at the table, sitting in a comfortable silence, the pretense of working long since given up.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright by yourself this Saturday?” Sirius asked softly. “I could skip detention and Padfoot could be there at least.” 

Remus’s heart clenched. “Don’t skip out, Tulip will lose his mind and you’ll be in even worse trouble. I’ll be fine, I promise.” He smiled, fairly convincingly. “Come on, let’s rescue Lily from Prongs and head upstairs.”

Together they hauled James away from Lily and her friends, dragging him up the stairs by his elbows, and Remus tried his best not to notice every time he bumped into Sirius on the narrow staircase. He climbed into bed after a round of “good nights” and only when the curtains whisper shut around him did he allow himself the luxury of basking in the idea that Sirius’s concern meant anything more than platonic worry. He fell asleep imagining a world that could not be - a world with Sirius stroking his hair and whispering sweet words meant for him and him alone, chasing away the lingering curse of the moon with his quiet warmth. 

~~~

Remus had been quietly pining for his best friend for what seemed like forever, but for what was realistically about two years. Before Hogwarts he’d kept to himself out of both necessity and choice - growing up on an isolated farm and being bitten by a werewolf are both life challenges that keep you from making many friends. It wasn’t until about halfway through his second year that Remus began to realize that he wasn’t interested in his female classmates the way the other boys were, and not until his third year that his heart was captured by Sirius.

It wasn’t anything dramatic or complicated - in fact, it was the simplest thing of all. It was, as most things were in Remus’s life, centered around the full moon. A rough transformation in December of their third year had left Remus in the Hospital Wing for longer than usual - nearly a week. He spent the first two days of that awful week unconscious, and didn’t wake up until nearly midnight on that Wednesday. The first thing he saw when he opened his puffy eyes was long black hair strewn across the end of his bed. There, softly illuminated in the candlelight, was Sirius, head pillowed on his arms, fast asleep at the end of Remus’s bed. As if on cue, Sirius turned his head and smiled sleepily at Remus, and that was that for Remus’s heart.

But this realization was followed almost immediately by the knowledge, the deep, certain, bones-deep truth of the fact that he could never act upon his feelings. Not once, not ever. Sirius was assuredly heterosexual, and also one of the most important people in Remus’s life. He wasn’t going to put years of friendship in jeopardy over the simple vagaries of his heart. No, best to push these feelings way down deep and pretend they weren’t there.

This decision came in a split second, and Remus was able to return Sirius’s smile with one of his own - even if it was a little forced at the corners. He could live with that.

~~~

It was the day before the full moon, which means Remus woke up with full body aches and a head that felt like it was underwater. He buried his head under the pillow and tried to ignore the slow-roasting coals in his knees and shoulders. His stomach curled and twisted, though, and it wasn’t long before he was up and in the bathroom, viciously ejecting the remnants of his dinner the night before. His ears were ringing and his headache was splitting - all in all, normal pre-lunar symptoms. He thought about making is way down to the Hospital Wing, but the idea of submitting himself to the fluttering and worrying of Madame Pomfrey was almost more than he could bear - besides, it’s not like she could cure what was really wrong. He resolved to spend the day in bed and pretend like the rest of the world didn’t exist. 

He heard the rest of the boys surface to consciousness and rise to face the day, but the velvet curtains around his bed and the mountain of pillows he’d sunk his head into muffled everything. He thought he heard his name once or twice.

“-Remus doing okay?”

“-probably not going to lessons today, poor chap.”

“-him alone. Moon’s tomorrow, you know how it is.”

There was a rustle and a change in the light against his eyelids, so Remus cracked one eye open to see Sirius, his dark hair swinging around his face as he peered through the curtains. He was so close to Remus that the ends of his hair brushed ever so slightly against the boy’s cheek. The sun, well and truly up by now, poured in behind Sirius, the golden streams illuminating him and giving him an unearthly sort of glow. The light got tangled in his hair and brought depth to the blackness, little pockets of richness and color that weren’t usually visible. His eyes were brown and so soft as he looked at Remus. Remus choked a little as his heart clenched almost painfully from the unexpected loveliness of this sight. It took him a minute to realize Sirius was talking to him.

“-anything, mate?”

“I - what?”

“I said, would you like us to bring you any breakfast? We’re heading down now.”

His stomach clenched again at the thought of food. “No thank you - I wouldn’t be able to keep it down, anyway.”

“Fair enough.” Sirius hesitated, then pushed a hand through the curtains and rested it on Remus’s hair, stroking it gently. Remus felt his whole body stiffen in reaction as his brain short-circuited. Quickly, as if embarrassed, Sirius pulled his head and arm back through the curtains, and the sunshine disappeared. “Get some rest, we’ll bring you what you miss in class.”

It wasn’t until the dormitory door closed with a soft clatter that Remus had the presence of mind to call out, “Thank you!”

Soon enough the dormitory was empty, and the air sat silent and still. Remus wanted to lie there and dwell on the unexpected moment of tenderness from Sirius that morning, but his body had other ideas and soon he was asleep again, his brain running from the pain as best it knew how. He spent the day in and out of consciousness, drifting along like a soap bubble. He was vaguely aware of the other boys coming and going, leaving books and parchment on his bedside table, and he managed to rouse himself enough to drink the mug of soup one of them brought for his lunch around noon. 

The afternoon brought less drowsiness but more pain. His shoulder and hip joints, as if in preparation for the next day’s miseries, felt tense and twisted. A gentle heating charm cast on a pillow helped a little bit, but not a lot. Again the thought of the Hospital Wing crossed his mind, but at this point it would have hurt more to drag himself down there than to stay in bed.

Besides, he was used to pain.

He felt a weight settle at the end of his bed, and looked up to see the messy black hair and dorky glasses of James. His friend smiled easily and patted his leg. 

“Hanging in there, Moony?”

Remus shrugged. “Day before the moon. You know how it is.”

James winced sympathetically. “Need anything?”

“A cure for lycanthropy?” Remus quipped.

James laughed. “I’ll get right on it. You take care.” He deposited an armload of parchment scrolls onto the teetering pile next to Remus’s bed and waved as he headed out the door again.

Remus knew they were all in their afternoon classes for the next few hours, so he was duly surprised when a half hour or so later Sirius showed up again. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be in Potions?” Remus remarked, pushing himself to a sitting position.

Sirius shrugged and sat down. “Told Slughorn I needed to bring you your assignments.” He waved a hand at a notebook slung onto the floor. “Didn’t want you to fall behind, and all that.”

“And he just… let you go?” Remus raised an eyebrow. “Decent of him. Odd, but decent.”

“Not that odd.” Sirius smiled. “Everyone knows you’re his second favorite, after Lily. You’re a genius with a cauldron, as he says.”

They fell silent after that, Sirius fiddling with a wrinkle in the duvet and Remus watching his hand while trying to seem like he wasn’t. Finally, Sirius looked up. 

“Look, mate, are you sure you don’t want me to skive off this detention tomorrow?  I hate the thought of you being up in the Shack alone.”

Remus sighed. “As much as I want to say yes, I’m going to say no. I don’t want you getting in more trouble because of me. It’s fine, Pads - I’ve been alone before.”

“I know,” said Sirius, “but you shouldn’t have to be.”

“I’ll be okay, Sirius, I promise.” And before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “but I love that you asked.” Immediately he felt his cheeks and ears turned crimson and hastily looked down, pretending to smooth out wrinkles in the duvet. He didn’t notice Sirius looking at him. Eventually Sirius stood to go back to class.

“We’ll bring you something from dinner if you don’t make it down,” he called over his shoulder as he left the dormitory. “Get some more sleep!”

As soon as the door closed Remus threw himself painfully backwards and covered his face with a pillow.

_ It wasn’t even that revealing of a comment! _ He told himself.  _ God, what a state I’m in, mention the word ‘love’ once and I act like an idiot.  _

Somewhere in between the self-admonishment and the lingering moon-pain, he did fall asleep again. He woke up once more to the sound of James and Peter bring him a plate from the Great Hall - beef, yorkshire pudding, carrots, and a slice of Black Forest Gateau, if his wolf-sensitive nose was correct. They were talking softly as they approached, so as to not wake him up. 

“-acting weird all day.”

“I know, Pete, but you know he’s always weird where Remus is concerned.”

“I wish he’d sort his feelings out, this pining is exhausting to watch.”

Still lying down and in a sleep-fever haze, Remus kept very still and hastily closed his eyes when James pulled aside the curtain to peek in. The curtain twitched closed again and the soft conversation resumed.

“I swear, James, he doesn’t even know what’s going on inside his own head. He won’t admit it to himself.”

“Did you see his face when Remus tripped into his lap last weekend by the lake? I thought he was going to produce steam, his face was so red.”

“He’s an idiot, Prongs. He needs our help.”

“You’re right, Pete - they’ll never sort it out for themselves.”

Remus waited until they had both left the room before getting the dinner plate. The wolf was getting stronger, and he was ravenous. He puzzled over what he’d just heard and the implications therein. He knew what he  _ wanted  _ it to mean, but he couldn’t risk the danger of hope, no matter how much he wanted to believe. He devoured the dinner plate and, lacking anything else to do, pulled over some of the work from Charms and began to read. O.W.L.s were this year, and Remus would be damned if he let something as stupid as lycanthropy keep him from scoring well.

~~~

Saturday morning. Moonrise due at 2 pm. 

The achiness had left Remus’s joints, but he was left with a horrid combination of exhaustion and nervous energy. He wanted to be moving around, itching to do  _ something _ , but the weariness enveloping his whole being kept him from doing very much at all. He settled for sitting on the edge of his bed, twisting the blanket in his fingers and swinging his feet, just…….. Waiting.

He eyed the others. James was flat on his back, curtains wide open, snoring with his mouth askew. Peter was an indistinguishable lump underneath his blanket. But Sirius - Sirius was propped up on one elbow and watching him, face expressionless. When he noticed Remus staring at him, he quirked up one corner of his mouth.

“The waiting is hard, isn’t it.” It wasn’t a question.

Remus shrugged. “Not as hard as some things, but… yes. The anticipation. I feel like I’m going to crack in half from the tension of it all.”

His hands kept working at the fabric of the blanket, bunching it up, smoothing it out, fidgeting with the wrinkles, pulling at loose threads. He stared down at them, as if they belonged to someone else. He felt disconnected from his own body, like he existed slightly above and to the left of everything around him. Those hands, in a few short hours, would twist and crack and bend and stretch, forming paws coated in coarse brown fur and tipped with wicked black claws. Those hands would tear at the walls of the Shrieking Shack, batter and beat at the remaining furniture until it was splinters. These nails would rend his own flesh, bringing blood and bruises and pain. These hands were capable of such  _ damage _ . It was astonishing they ever produced anything of worth at all. 

“Stop that, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

It wasn’t until Sirius’s smooth hands closed around his own that he realized how tightly he’d been gripping the blanket. He blinked, and relaxed his fingers. The muscles were sore, having been clenched up so tightly. He looked up - Sirius was on his knees, both hands wrapped around his own, lips slightly parted, his eyes filled with something… indescribable. Remus could feel the dry warmth of Sirius’s palms radiating into his knuckles, soothing them. He leaned forward a little almost without thinking, and now he realized he could smell Sirius - the scent of sleep, of laundry soap and clove and the faintest tinge of cigarettes. It was drowning his senses, the smell of him, the feel of him, everything. He was falling into Sirius’s eyes, surrounded by their gentle brown. Falling. Drowning. Rising up.

Somehow he came back to himself before he did anything stupid, like finish leaning forward and kissing the boy in front of him. Remus gently pulled his hands out of Sirius’s grasp and sat back. When he did, he saw the slightest hint of pain flash across Sirius’s face before the other boy stood up, hands jammed into his pockets. Remus grimaced inwardly and stood, trying not to look Sirius in the eye.

“I’d better head down to Pomfrey, it’s nearly time.” It wasn’t, and they both knew it, but Remus had to get out of that room before the tension knocked him sideways. Sirius nodded silently and moved aside to let him pass. As Remus went out the door, Sirius opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but changed his mind and shook his head. The door closed between them with a soft ‘click’.

~~~

Remus sat on the splintered bed in the Shrieking Shack and waited for the change to come over him. Sunlight streamed in the high-up window, sluicing through the dust in the air. 

It always snuck up on him, like a train through the fog. By the time you noticed the rumbling and the noise, it was almost upon you. 

He shuddered. He jerked. He twisted. He Changed. His nose sampled the air, searching for the smells that meant Friends, Safety, Fun, Comfort. He couldn’t find them! Where were they?

Out came teeth and claws. 

~~~

A huge mountain of assorted birdseed was piled in the middle of the table. James, Sirius and Peter sat around it, armed with tweezers and an assortment of bowls. They surveyed their task.

“So let me get this straight. We have to sort this,” Peter pointed at the mountain with his tweezers, “into these bowls.” Another point.

James shook his head. “Tulip’s a clever bastard, I’ll give him that. This will take us all night.”

Sirius said nothing, just eyed the task before them with displeasure. After a moment’s silence, he sat with a heavy sigh and picked up a piece of seed at random with his tongs. The other boys flopped down and followed suit.

The moon hung high in the sky, visible from the narrow window. It was brilliantly white against the black of the night sky. Sirius kept glancing up at it.

An hour passed, then two, in relative silence.

~~~

The splintered bed finally crashed to the floor after a determined paw swipe took out the last leg. The wolf howled, calling for its friends. When no response came, its fangs clamped around a foreleg in frustration, sending blood splattering across the wall.

~~~

A howl echoed up from the forest, causing all three boys to pause. Sirius abandoned his tweezers and got up, crossing to the window. He gazed out at the forest, fingers drumming a rhythm on the windowsill. Peter and James exchanged significant glances, and then James put down his tweezers.

“Padfoot?”

“What?” said Sirius, still looking out the window. 

James rolled his eyes. “When are you going to pull your head out of your arse and tell Remus how you really feel?”

That got a reaction. Sirius stiffened and spun, hands clenched and eyes wide.

“I - I don’t - you mean -” he paused, forced himself to be still, and finished. “I don’t know what you’re on about, Prongs.”

“We’re not stupid, mate,” chimed in Peter. “You’ve been pining over him for at least a year. Him being alone tonight has you wound tighter than a paranoid doxy.”

“You goggle at him when he’s not looking,” added James. “You find every excuse to touch him. And the way your eyes look when he’s smiling at you…” he shook his head. “Sirius, did you think we would hate you if you told us?”

A pause, then Sirius sank into a chair and rested his face in his hands. “Am I that obvious?” His voice was muffled by his palms.

“Yes,” said Peter and James in unison. Sirius groaned.

“Does Remus know?” Sirius asked, still covering his face.

“No idea. “James shrugged, picking up his tweezers again. “But you should go find out.”

Sirius turned to look at James. “What, now? But we’re-”

“Go on.” James reached into his robes and threw the Invisibility Cloak at Sirius, nearly knocking him out of his chair when it hit him in the face. “We’ll finish up here.”

“We will?” Peter asked, then jumped and rubbed his shin where James had kicked it. “I mean, yeah, we will. Go get him, Pads.”

Sirius thought about it, and finally stood to cover himself in the Cloak. “I… thank you for not hating me,” came from the air where he’d been standing. James just chuckled.

“You’ll have to do a lot worse than fall in love to get us to hate you. Now go!” The door opened by an invisible hand. “And don’t come back to the Tower until you’ve told him how you feel!” James called after his escaping friend. He turned back to the tower of birdseed and sighed. 

“Shall we?” Peter grumbled.

~~~

The wolf curled up in the center of the room, panting. Wood splinters and strips of wallpaper littered the floor, along with slapdash specks of blood and tufts of fur. It was Sad. Confused. Angry. 

Its ears twitched as a distant patter came ever closer up the tunnel, and a familiar scent wafted its way into the room as the trapdoor flapped open. The wolf lifted its head. 

Friend? Here? Friend! It bounced to its feet, disregarding the myriad cuts and bruises all over its body, and ran over to the large black dog makings its way into the room. The black dog sniffed it all over, whimpering at the blood.

The wolf didn’t care about its pain - now its friend was here, and all was well.

~~~

The weak morning sunlight slanted past the curtains, and Remus cracked an unwilling eye to the world. Just like every morning-after, he took a general inventory of his body - ankle definitely twisted and maybe sprained, deep cuts across the left thigh, bruised ribs, scratches everywhere… he touched a hand to his nose and winced. Definitely broken. He pushed himself to a sitting position, moving slowly so as to not jostle his injuries more than necessary. The thin blanket kept in the Shack fell away from his chest as he sat up, and fell onto Padfoot’s sleeping body. He’d apparently curled up next to Remus to keep him warm during the night. 

Just thinking about warmth made Remus realize how cold it was in the room, especially since he was decidedly unclothed. He looked around for where he usually left his clothes, and saw only a pile of shredded cloth. He grimaced - last night had been pretty terrible, it seemed. He shivered, and it was this movement that woke Padfoot up. The dog opened it eyes, cocked its head, and then in a complex and brain-twisting series of movements turned into Sirius sitting cross-legged on the floor. 

“Morning, Moons,” he whispered. Remus tried to smile, but the dried blood on his face had stiffened the skin too much. He reached one hand up to wipe it away, but gave up after a few halfhearted swipes. Sirius got to his knees.

“Here, let me.” He took the edge of his jumper and gently wiped Remus’s face, working off the worst of the blood. Once finished, he took the blanket and wrapped it around Remus, then stood up. He went to the trapdoor, rummaged around for a second, and returned with a bag.

“Don’t worry, I came prepared.” Out of the bag he drew a sweater and a pair of soft pants, as well a thermos and his wand. “I was a bit in a hurry, but managed to grab a few things.” He tossed the clothes at Remus and turned his back in a semblance of privacy.

“I’m surprised you came at all,” croaked Remus as he pulled on the sweater and pants. “Weren’t you supposed to be in detention?” 

“Prongs and Wormtail covered for me.” Sirius turned back around, the thermos in his hands now full of steaming liquid. He poured some into a cup and gave it to Remus. “Hot chocolate. Drink up.” 

Remus took a tentative sip - it was delicious, and not too hot. It was smooth and rich and filled his aching mouth with warmth and sweetness. He drank the hot chocolate slowly as Sirius gathered his shredded clothes into a pile. When that was done, he dropped onto the floor next to Remus and looked him over, eyes moving slowly up and down Remus’s body. Remus flushed, hoping the bruises on his face would cover any redness. Sirius reached out a gentle hand and held it over Remus’s injured ankle, not quite touching it.

“This must smart, yeah?” 

Remus nodded, avoiding eye contact. He felt the tap of a wand on his ankle, and with a warm squishing sensation the swollen tissue receded somewhat and the pain died down. It still hurt, but nowhere near as bad. Sirius pushed up Remus’s pants leg, tapping the deep cuts on his thigh with his wand to close them up. The warm hand on his bare thigh was doing strange things to Remus’s brain, and he gripped the now-empty cup of hot chocolate so tightly it almost broke. Another gentle tap to his broken nose twitched it somewhat back into place. Remus finally looked up, and saw Sirius less than six inches away from his face. His eyes were wide, his mouth slightly open. Remus stared - he couldn’t help it. There was a fine spray of freckles, so light you usually couldn’t see them, across the bridge of Sirius’s nose. He found himself focusing on those freckles, wondering what it would be like to kiss each one. He leaned forward unconsciously, closing the distance to four inches. Then three.

“Remus, I…” Sirius closed his eyes briefly. “I need to…”

But what he needed was interrupted by the sounds of footsteps in the tunnel. The boys sprang apart, Sirius throwing the Invisibility Cloak on just in time for Madame Pomfrey to throw open the trapdoor. Remus managed to send the thermos and cup over to the concealed Sirius in a panicked slide before Madame Pomfrey had climbed all the way into the room. She did her usual clucking and fussing over Remus, practically pouring two bottles of potion down his neck to speed up the healing process. If she thought the clothes were unusual, she was kind enough not to say anything. 

They made their way back to the Hospital Wing, where Remus spent the day sleeping in a curtained-off bed. When he woke up for the third time some time around 3 pm, his ribs felt better and the other Marauders were clustered around his bed. James was the first one to notice he was awake, and grinned broadly.

“Cheers, Moo- er, Remus,” he said with a sideways glance at Pomfrey three beds away. “Welcome back to reality.”

Remus grinned weakly. “How was detention?”

Peter pulled a disgusted face. “It was awful!” And he launched into the story of Tulip’s detention. Remus half-listened, laughing or exclaiming in the right places, as his mind wandered. He kept thinking about this morning, about what he’d almost done.

He’d almost kissed Sirius, right there in the Shrieking Shack. And he was pretty certain that Sirius had wanted him to. 

He chanced a glance at Sirius, who was sitting on the edge of the bed half-smiling at some pivotal moment in Peter’s story. He glanced over and made accidental eye contact with Remus, blushed, and looked away. 

The blush was interesting and worth looking into, Remus thought. All at once he threw caution to the winds and made a decision.

“Madame Pomfrey?” he called. The matron made her way over to them, giving the Marauders a dirty look and a wide berth.

“Yes, dear?” she asked, patting him on the shoulder.

“Can I finish resting up in my dormitory?”

“Of course, dear. But come back down if you need anything.” He nodded, and she walked away. The other boys seemed a little surprised. Remus sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

“Pads, will you help me back to Gryffindor Tower?” Sirius’s head shot up and he looked at Remus warily, but nodded. Remus stood and only wobbled a little bit, which he counted as a victory.

“I’ll see you lads later, then.” This to James and Peter. James immediately grabbed Peter’s arm and pulled him to his feet.

“Right, we’re off to the library. See you at dinner!” He hauled a protesting Peter away in the direction of the library. Remus smiled inwardly. James always was quick on the uptake. 

Remus and Sirius made their way slowly back to Gryffindor Tower. It hadn’t been a ruse - Remus genuinely needed help, especially on the stairs. He found himself leaning on Sirius more often than was strictly necessary, though - and each time he saw the blush and felt the nervousness. But by the time they were climbing through the Portrait Hole, Remus was almost spent. The Common Room was nearly empty, thankfully - most people were spending this cold but sunny Sunday afternoon outside or somewhere on the grounds, with only one or two zealous fifth years seated and studying at the tables. No one bothered them as they climbed the stairs to the fifth-year dormitory. 

Sirius helped Remus climb into bed, and stood there awkwardly as Remus arranged the blankets and pillows around himself. When he was finished, Remus looked up at Sirius.

“Sit with me?” he asked, softly. “Please?” 

Sirius sat on the bed, legs tucked up underneath him. He stared down at his hands, fiddling with the fabric of his pants.

Remus took a deep breath. “Sirius…”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Sirius burst out. “I shouldn’t have… I almost… I didn’t mean to…” he sighed. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

Remus just blinked a few times. “...what?” he finally managed to ask.

Sirius balled up handfuls of the blanket beneath him, his knuckles white with the tension. He still wouldn’t look a Remus. “I… I almost kissed you earlier, in the Shack. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.” He blinked several times. “All of my feelings just came rising up and spilling out and I couldn’t control myself, Remus, you were right there, right beneath my hands and so close to my face, and I could see your eyes, and the way the light was hitting you, and God, I just…” he scrubbed one hand over his face almost angrily and took several deep breaths. “I just don’t want this to ruin us. Ruin our friendship. Because so help me God keeping you in my life is more important than any stupid emotions I might be feeling.”

He fell silent, still breathing hard. Remus’s mind was reeling. He gathered himself together enough to reach out and touch Sirius’s wrist. The other boy jerked under his touch and turned to face Remus, brown eyes overbright with tears. Remus closed his hand around Sirius’s wrist.

“Pads, are you telling me you fancy me?” Sirius closed his eyes and nodded, just once. A wave of excitement and relief washed over Remus, and for the second time in an hour he threw caution - and himself - to the winds. He pulled Sirius by the wrist towards himself, caught the other boy’s face in his free hand, and kissed him. 

The kiss, as kisses went, was too new and enthusiastic to be much good. It was all angles and teeth and repositioning, but it was honest and right and full of the feelings neither had been able to express. Sirius’s lips were warm and a little chapped, and they felt like perfection. They felt like comfort, safety, and home.

Sirius eventually leaned back, cheeks flushed. “I… wow, Moony, I just…” he ran a hand through his hair. “How long?”

Remus reached out a hand to run it through Sirius’s hair as well. “About a year and a half. I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” He wound strands of black hair around his fingers, carefully working out any small tangles he encountered. Sirius leaned into the touch. “How about you?”

“About a year,” Sirius replied, with a soft smile. “We’re right idiots for waiting so long, I suppose.”

“Something like that.” Remus was overtaken by a yawn so large his jaw cracked. “I really should get some more rest if I’m going to be in any sort of shape to go to lessons tomorrow.” He leaned back on his pillow, letting his hand fall from Sirius’s hair. Sirius picked up the hand where it lay and held it in both of his.

“Would you like me to stay?” Remus intertwined his fingers with Sirius’s.

“No, you go down to dinner and bring me something back.” He pulled Sirius’s hand to his mouth and kissed it, delighting in the sheer overwhelming fact that he  _ could _ . “We should talk more when you get back. About - well, all of this.”

Sirius stood up. “What should I tell the others? James and Pete, I mean.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “They already know… some of it. My side of it, anyway. Practically threw me out of detention by my collar to go to you.”

Remus made himself comfortable in the blankets and pillows. “Tell them I swept you off your feet. Make me sound romantic.” Exhaustion was coming back over him in waves. Sirius leaned over, tilted his chin up with one finger, and kissed him again. This kiss was less urgent and more languid, sweeter, gentler. When he stood up again Remus’s head was swimming.

“I’ll see you soon,” he whispered. Sirius kissed Remus once more and made his way out of the dormitory, closing the door very gently behind him. 

Remus slid into sleep and into dreams that welcomed him with open arms. Dreams of a person who saw his heart and held it, warm in their hands. Dreams of Sirius. Dreams of love.

  
  
  



End file.
